Rain
by IamTheRaven
Summary: Inspector Jackson has all the answers. He finally knows what has happened to his Annabeth fifteen years after her disappearance. Just when all hope seems lost, a familiar face enters his office with a leather jacket and a bad attitude. Percabeth, not AU.
1. Chapter 1

(**ATTENTION: For anybody wondering why I updated this and it isn't updated, I spotted a few errors that I fixed. New chapters coming soon.)**

Rain.

It fell gently on the windowpanes, signaling the start of another dreary day in London. Inspector Jackson looked out in the gloom for a moment and sighed, making his client feel unappreciated.

As he sifted through one legal document or another, he wondered how he got here or why he was doing this. He had gotten into this business for one reason only; to find out what had happened to her.

But she was gone now; now he knew the answer. So what was the use?

He slumped back in the seat, ignoring his client's frown, suddenly lost in thought.

One thought actually; a thought that was haunting him to no end.

Now what?

For the past fifteen years of his life, he'd been hot on the trail of the disappearance. Who was responsible? The Klan? Was she alive? Could she be contacted?

But now he had all the answers. For six months he had been filing danged PI cases and tracking down unfaithful husbands for their gold digging wives, all eager for divorces. Why did he bother? What was the point now?

And now that he knew her fate, what was he to do?

Keep settling stupid divorce cases?

This was no life for him.

"Mr. Jackson! Are you alive?" rasped the irked client.

Percy jumped a little, disturbed, and quickly leafed through the files. Oh boy, another divorcee case.

"So...I see you have a PI case for me, Mr..."

He looked hastily for the name.

"Mr...Di-"

Suddenly he stopped. He looked up, quizzically, from the papers and raised an eyebrow in wonder at the clad figure. Leather Jacket, pierced lip, a Yank no doubt, with shaggy moppy hair and a bad attitude. Couldn't be more than twenty five.

"Mr. Nicodemus DiAngelo?"

He looked up with a sigh.

"That's me. And call me Nico, seriously."

Percy dropped the stack in a pang of disbelief.

"Nico...It's me, Nico. Don't you remember me?"

Nico blinked a few times, trying to comprehend his statement.

"Uh, no. I don't recall ever meeting you before."

An old pill who had to be forty with that much gray hair and was a total ditz. No, Nicodemus had never seen him before.

The only thing interesting about this guy was his eyes. Nico groaned in disgust to himself.

"That sounded so gay," he thought begrudgingly.

But it was true. They were an unnatural green, with all the life taken out of them. He had the look of a once pro football player who was now stuck sitting in retirement without any of his toys or women.

"It's me," Percy said.

Nicodemus snorted.

"Retard," he thought.

Obviously Nico didn't know who he was, except his attorney.

"It's me," was zero help.

Nico hadn't met someone this stupid since...

No way.

He was dead, right?

Nico hastily grabbed a business card and stared at it queerly.

"Percy?"

"Nico!"

Percy tripped over the desk to meet him, but Nico stepped back and he fell. What was this, a lover's reunion?

Still, Nicodemus was overwhelmed.

He hadn't seen his friend in so many years; he thought he was dead.

Percy had spent all these years cramped up alone, in the rain, searching for a lost love. He had missed his friends so much. Nico gave him a shout;

"Where the hell have you been!" he screamed angrily at the figure on the ground with a briefcase on his head.

"Uh...Busy?"

"We thought the Klan had killed you!"

Percy stared at a sheet in front of his nose.

"Mrs. Thalia DiAngelo?"

Nico blinked. He had nearly forgotten why he had even come there that morning.

"Yeah...about that."

Percy raised an eyebrow.

"Slow down; Thalia was a huntress, right? What's with the clothes? What are you even doing in England?"

Nico put his hands up, ignoring Percy's akward state. His legs were stuck halfway up his desk with his head on the floor and a briefcase askew on his skull.

"I think you have more explaining to do than me. And drop that accent, it's driving me insane," said Nico.

Percy managed to right himself, and the brief light that had shone in his eyes dissapeared. His vibrant sea color turned back to that drab darkness that they had been when Nico had first walked in the room.

"Where's Annabeth?" he asked cautiously.

No reply.

The rain poured a little louder, and Nico's voice softened, just loud enough to be heard over the thunder.

"The Klan?"

...

Rain.

It poured softly on the panes of the car's windows, a Jaguar XK8 Inspector Jackson had recently purchased.

Nico leaned against the window solemnly, digesting all he had just heard.

Wow.

Percy looked out into the hazy fog that was London with a pang of remorse.

Again, that nagging question bit at his back; what was he to do now?

He had found Nico. He could go to camp half blood and be a counselor, the oldest one yet.

But he hadn't picked up a sword in years (now a gun and taser were his tools) and besides, there were too many traces of her back at camp half blood.

So he asked that question, and perhaps by some divine interference, it was instantly answered.

"Is that your phone ringing?" Nico asked.

Percy snapped out of his nostalgia and reached for his phone. Nico whistled.

"Wow...The iPhone 7g...That thing is expensive. You really must be reeling in the dough at this rate."

Percy barely nodded in recognition. He didn't keep this job for the money. It was just a side benefit.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Inspector Percy Jackson?" replied a feminine voice.

"Yuh-huh."

"Hey. Sorry to bother you, but my name is Anna Price, I'm an agent with MI5? Do you remember me?"

Percy muttered a no, wondering what she wanted.

"Well, listen, you're the best in our field in Klan cases, and there's been another massacre."

Percy didn't even flinch. He had become so numb to death by now. He was still definitely surprised, however.

"They're back?"

"Yeah. You bet. They're not giving up that easily."

"Where do you want me to go?"

"Here, I'll fax you the address. It's a bank in London where MI6 operates...This is a big one, Inspector. One of the members of parliament was the main victim this time. You're playing with the big boys now, Inspector."

Percy shrugged. Better than PI cases.

He ended the call without a goodbye and rolled it up. The paper thin cellular device slipped in his pocked as Percy started the engine.

Rain.

It poured heavily on the windshield.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry about Thalia," Percy muttered briefly. Even with the exciting rediscovery of Nico, he was having a difficult time keeping his head up. He couldn't help but remember the past. What would Annabeth have looked like now, he wondered?

Nico shook his head nonchalantly.

"It's nothing compared to what happened to you, man."

The rain numbed all. He hadn't felt much emotion, especially not deep emotion lately. Just annoyance and sarcasm with his unsatisfying life and wife.

He remembered Annabeth, distinctly, and the impact she had had on him. He bit his lip when he remembered the beautiful blonde hair she had, and those piercing eyes. Smart, classy...It seemed so long ago, but Annabeth had been his first crush. He got jealous when he saw Percy getting close to her, and that combined with the death of his sister sent him into a dark depressing state, of which he never truly got out of.

He had found a new love, Thalia, pretty darn quick, and forgotten all about her. But now...now he was remembering.

"Is there any way she could be alive?"

Percy swallowed, beginning to choke up.

"No, you can't do this, not in front of Nico," he thought. "No, I thought there were no tears left to cry!"

He was thirty two. He had to compose himself for the young Nico DiAngelo. Even now, when they were so much older, he still remembered that dark fair haired ten year old boy, the timid one who lived in his sister's shadow.

He hadn't seen Annabeth in fifteen years.

"No, Nico. I don't think so."

He dejectedly parked in front of the bank he was directed to, dragging his feet out of the car while Nico waited behind.

He went in as instructed, and found the elevator.

In with him was a young Brit, fifteen perhaps, with fair hair and a sad smile.

"They trap you in their cage too?" he asked wearily. Percy raised an eyebrow. No way...

"You're...with..."

The boy nodded.

"MI6. That's me. Unfortunately. Alex Rider at your service."

Percy's jaw dropped.

"What are you, fifteen?" he asked in amazement.

Alex shook his head.

"Fourteen."

Percy was silent as Alex mumbled wearily.

"They use me like I'm an object, threaten me, abuse me..."

Percy smiled.

"I know how you feel, lad."

"Do you really?"

"I've been used since I was twelve. By a different set of...beings, however."

Alex got out on a different floor. Percy just shook his head. He knew what it felt like.

As the elevator dinged, Percy stepped out onto the top floor, and was greeted by a frenzy of panicked motion. People were rushing to and fro, holding up papers, screaming into telephones, and huddling around computer screens. He could smell burnt coffee. This place reminded him more of The Daily Planet than the MI6 headquarters he had pictured from the movies. The movies were disappointing, he had found. The E ring of the Pentagon had no holographic screens, metal barricades, or high tech computers. It was mainly white. White tile, white walls. And offices. The windows were green and there was easy listening muzak. Very disappointing.

He was greeted by a curly blonde with a serious look if he ever saw one. She was the closest thing to a secret agent he had seen all day. She wore a pair of sunglasses despite the fact that they were indoors, and Percy almost wondered if she was blind. But from the way she walked, he could tell that she knew exactly where she was going.

"Anna Price, at your service. Follow me, please."

She walked between the rows of crowded cubicles, not glancing back at him.

"Where did we meet, again? You've escaped my memory," muttered a tired Percy.

She stopped for a moment.

"Lancashire."

"For the La Roux case?"

"Yes."

She kept walking, but Percy stopped.

"Hold up. You weren't my briefing agent that case, were you?"

There was a pause.

"No."

"It was Brewster, wasn't it?"

"I don't know."

"Then...how do you remember me?"

"I was assigned to the team."

"But you don't even remember who your head agent was...yet you remember me, and you didn't even talk to me?"

She turned around, looking impatient. Her eyebrows were knit in fury. It was a familiar look to Percy, yet he couldn't remember where he had seen it.

"Are you implying anything, Mr. Jackson?"

"No..."

"Good."

She turned and continued to walk, quickly, with her secret agent swagger, when she tripped and fell in her high heeled boots.

Percy opened his mouth in shock, and lent down a hand to help her. As soon as she had gotten up, flustered, and dusted herself off, Percy started to laugh. He hadn't laughed in ages. But he laughed now.

The girl now looked so furious he was surprised she didn't take off her leather gloves and slap him.

"That was hilarious!"

She just bit her lip angrily and muttered under her breath, "Your head is full of kelp."

Percy stopped laughing.

"W-what did you say?"

"Nothing. We're late, just hurry up and follow me."

"Stop. Stop right now."

"Mr. Jackson, are you going to follow me or not?"

He stood and folded his arms.

"How do you know me? Why did you pay special attention to me back in La Roux?" Percy demanded.

She sighed.

"If you must know..."

It was now that Percy realized she had an American accent. He hadn't heard one in a while.

"La Roux. The name. It reminded me...of a friend. And then I saw you. You reminded me...of another..."

here she paused. She hesitated before saying the next word, and when she said it, you knew there was a hidden meaning.

"...friend."

Percy was trembling. Anna. Annabeth. La Roux. Larue. Clarisse Larue. No, way, not now...After fifteen years.

"Mr. Jackson, are you all right? Why are you crying?"

"Annabeth!"

Agent Price looked confused.

"What?"

"Annabeth!"

The blonde agent was dumbfounded.

"H-How do you know my real name? Who are you? What are you doing!" She exclaimed, alarmed, as Percy reached for her sunglasses.

"Get your hands away from me!"

Percy smiled, incredulously, tears streaming down his face by now.

"Annabeth...my sweet Annabeth...let me see your beautiful gray eyes...let me see them again."

She slapped his hand away.

"How on earth do you know what color my eyes are? Who are you? What's your problem?-!"

Percy looked a bit confused.

"Annabeth...Wise girl...don't you remember me, sweetheart? It's me! Percy...Percy Jackson! Don't you remember?"

He tried to touch her but she screamed, and heads turned.

"Get away from me! Security!"

Guards rushed over, and now Percy was very alarmed.

"Annabeth? What-"

"Security!"

(0-0 Ohh...I don't know what to do next. That was sort of ad-libbed. We'll see what happens. And how I feel tomorrow. Wow...lots of reunions. Sorry about the OOC Alex part. I haven't read Alex Rider in about three years. Except I started on Crocodile Tears but I gave up. Sorry, I have a lot of homework nowadays, but I haven't forgotten FanFiction. Keep on reading.)


	3. Chapter 3

(I am liking this story...so far.)

It was an all too familiar dream.

They were heading down the subway together, out of the rain.

She huddled against him for warmth.

They waited for the train back to London when suddenly a gust of wind blew her Yankee's cap clear off her head. She ran across the track to get it and he screamed in protest, worried the train would hit her. She made it across just in time as the train rushed past. Through the windows he could only watch, horrified, as he saw several men approach her. Her blonde head turned in fright and suddenly there was a bloodcurdling scream that could even be heard through the deafening noise. He yelled, jumping, holding his head, cussing at the train and telling it to stop as he lost sight of her. When the stupid thing finally stopped and the doors opened, he rushed through the doors, knocking people over till he got to the other side.

By then, it was too late.

All that was left on the ground was a battered Yankee's cap.

...

"Hey man, wake up. Percy. Percy? C'mon, dude, seriously," Nico groaned.

Inspector Jackson groaned as he forced his eyes open. He was faced with a mean looking guard.

"This punk bailed you out," he said.

Nico gave him a glare. Nobody called him a punk. But Percy just moaned as he tried to get up.

He was in a cell made of concrete, and there was barely any light at all in the room. The iron bars had been opened and Nico helped him up.

"What happened?" he moaned, unable to recall anything.

"You were trying to get your hands on Miss Price and she swatted you with her boot. You passed out on the floor," said the guard.

Nico raised an eyebrow.

"You were getting fresh with her, Percy?"

Percy just stopped. He opened his mouth incredulously. It had all come back to him.

He had found Annabeth. His sweet Annabeth. He had devoted his whole life to her and now she had finally showed herself again.

"Annabeth," he murmured.

"What?" asked Nico.

"Annabeth," he said, his voice cracking. Nico almost laughed but then Percy continued.

"I found her. I found my Wise Girl."

Nico's face turned to one of dead seriousness.

"Percy, we need to get you home, man. You're not thinking straight. That secret agent chick must have really hit you hard on the head."

"No, Nico, I'm not kidding. It's her. Annabeth. Agent Price is Annabeth."

The guard looked furious and opened his mouth to say something, but before he could Percy gasped in sheer horror.

"NO!" he screamed.

Nico was getting confused.

"What is it? Will you chill already? I'm sure-"

"Price!" Percy interrupted. He shook the guards shoulders viciously.

"No! Tell me it isn't true...Her last name isn't really Price, is it? Don't tell me she got..." here he paused and swallowed nervously. She couldn't have.

"Married?" he squeaked.

The guard shushed him violently.

"Stop it, idiot! Do you want the whole complex to hear you? Don't go around using our agents' real names! Keep your mouth shut!"

Nicodemus looked around. Not a person in sight. The block was empty. The guard was trying to be all macho and serious. Percy, however, was still in panic mode.

"PLEASE tell me she didn't get married! Her last name is still Chase, right?"

The guard shushed him viciously.

"I don't know her real name. Just keep your mouth shut or I'll have to lock you up for another night! We'll call you if Agent Price decides to press charges. Now get lost."

Nico helped Percy limp out the doorway. Now a somber look possessed his face. Even if she hadn't gotten married...

She didn't remember him.

The guard had a bit of a soft spot, and he felt a bit sympathetic for poor Percy.

"Hey, punk!" he exclaimed.

Both figures turned around.

"I know Agent Price. She's not married."

Percy sighed in relief.

When they exited the complex and entered the sunlight, Percy stopped walking. He couldn't bear this. His whole life, his whole life, he had been searching for her. And now she didn't remember him.

"Okay, man, you've got some explaining to do."

"She doesn't remember."

"WHO doesn't remember?"

"Annabeth."

Nico threw up his hands.

"What are you talking about, man! Annabeth is gone! You told me yourself that she was murdered by the Klan!"

Percy shook his head.

"I don't know, Nico, but it's her. She's alive."

Nico didn't know what to say as he started up the car. He was about to pull out of the parking lot when all of a sudden Percy murmured,

"You know, it's almost like she knew."

Nico, by now used to strange ramblings from Percy, muttered a "What?"

He stopped he engine.

"Remember how I told you about the subway?"

Nico nodded.

"Well, before that, she started acting really weird."

Nico cocked his head.

"How so?"

"Well, she started whimpering and crying, for no apparent reason, and then-"

Here he stopped and shuddered. It gave him goosebumps just thinking about it.

"And then what?" Nico asked.

Percy hesitated a moment before speaking.

"And then...she asked me for help."

Nico raised an eyebrow.

"She started begging me never to leave her, not to go, but mostly, to help her. I thought she might have thought I was leaving her or something, but that made no sense. She knew me better than that. It's almost like..."

Here he paused as he revved the ignition again.

Rain slowly began to fall.

"It's almost like she knew the Rain was coming."

...

Agent Price was troubled by the picture.

She'd had it ever since she could remember; given to her by her only friend, Clarisse Larue.

There was a young blonde girl in the picture, most likely her when she was younger. She was winking at the photographer and was making a peace sign with one hand. The other was wrapped around a tall, handsome boy, with dark hair and sea green eyes. He had a goofy grin on his face, looking so unbelievably happy that he held the blonde angel in his arms. There were a few others in the back. There was a dark headed boy who looked a bit younger; he was scowling. Making bunny ears behind his head was an older girl with spiky black hair and eyeliner. They looked like the perfect punk couple.

Clarisse had given it to her, in a sad way, and muttered,

"I hope someday you'll remember, Annabeth."

Then the door had burst open.

Clarisse Larue was buried in the London Cemetery now. Shot through the head.

Agent Price squirmed in discomfort, writhing and grasping her skull. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she remember anything?

How old was she? Probably thirty, she guessed. She didn't know. She didn't remember.

Inspector Jackson had reminded her of this boy in the picture...and now her brain was struggling to comprehend everything.

Suddenly the door burst open again.

She saw the ugly scarred face of Ivan rush towards her, his thugs behind him with revolvers ready.

He pushed her over with one easy motion and snarled.

"All right, little wench, what were you doing talking to Jackson?"

Price cowered in terror. Ivan picked up her thin form easily and gripped her neck tightly. Price whimpered.

"You trying to get rid of us or somethin'? You know Jackson's got all the info on us, little rat! We didn't put you in MI6 to hunt us down!" said Ivan.

Anna tried desperately to remove his hands and started to gag. Her legs failed helplessly and Ivan finally dropped her on the ground.

She choked, gasping for air. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Talk, girl!" he snarled.

"I...I was assigned...to the case..."

"Liar!"

"No... it's true..."

"Well, you need to reassign yourself then!"

"I couldn't..."

Ivan snapped his fingers.

Toruk got out the remote control and smiled. Anna screamed as her body moved against her will. Slowly, her form rose off the ground, and she slapped herself on the cheek as Toruk controlled her with his remote, a sick smile on his face. He had fun with her for a while before Ivan grunted.

"She telling the truth?"

Toruk checked his monitor.

"Apparently."

Ivan groaned. That was just great.

"Look, wench, if you give even ONE detail about us to them, it's curtains for you. We picked you off the street to spy on them, not the other way around."

He bared his teeth as a warning and smashed a chair against her head for good measure, then left, leaving agent Price shivering on the floor.

By now, she was sobbing disconsolately on the ground. Her frail fingers numbly reached for the photo and she held it to her heart.

...

Nico found himself digesting information again.

"Did...you really?"

Percy shook his head in woe.

"I was so close. So close, Nico! I was almost upset...I couldn't believe she could think I would leave her. I felt like she had no faith in me. Now I'm not so sure that's what she meant..."

He stared out into the hazy void. Silence was prevalent for a moment.

"But..." he finally whispered, breaking the quiet.

"I almost told her. I almost told her I loved her."

A hot tear fell and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to compose himself.

He hadn't told her.

It'd been too late.

Nico just sat in the awkward silence again for a few moments as Percy pulled himself together. Finally he said,

"So...what do we do?"

Percy shook his head.

"I don't know."

"Why would she pretend she doesn't know you?"

He shrugged.

"I know the Klan took her...and you know the Klan has a history of using mind control and brainwashing."

"But how did she get into MI6?" asked Nico.

Percy revved the car.

"We need to check out her records."

Nico raised an eyebrow.

"How? We're on probation. And you can't go around messing with the government."

Percy grimaced.

"Maybe Blunt will realize it's bad karma to have someone influenced by the Klan on his team of agents," he replied, stepping on the gas.

"But how can you prove she was ever taken by the Klan? Do you have any hard evidence?" Nico asked.

Percy gave him a look.

"What do you think I've been collecting for the past fifteen years?"

...

Price hadn't moved from her spot on the floor.

She tried, desperately, to remember as far back as she could. All she could remember was waking up in a cell. How old had she been then? There had been no mirrors or clocks. Time didn't seem to exist in that cold cell. She could have been born there for all she knew.

She remembered painful electric cables probing her spine and her brain, sometimes knocking her out for days. That cell time still seemed like a distant dream.

Then Clarisse had found her... That period was fuzzy.

Now she was Ivan's slave. She had robbed banks, spied information for him, done endless things. She couldn't remember who she was at all. She wasn't even fully comprehensive.

Finally, she muttered a whimpering sigh and managed to whisper, "Help me."

It was a plea addressed to no one in particular.

But she was heard.

Soon little snoring sounds were quietly filling the apartment.

In her dream, she was standing on a rock. Her favorite rock.

She'd been to Ireland once, for an MI6 case, but she'd had some time off. There was this little valley there that she felt drawn to, and on top of a cliff overlooking the valley, there was this rock.

She stood on the edge of it, and lifted both her arms out wide. She could smell the fresh rain and flowers in the air; she felt younger, and stronger, and better.

She realized now, she was younger.

This was a different time.

Suddenly she felt two arms clasp her gently around the waist. She turned her face to see who it was, and was confronted by the boy in the picture.

He was more handsome than she could ever have imagined.

"Are you happy, Annabeth?"

She didn't answer.

There was an unrealistic calm that settled over her. She could never remember feeling this way ever before. She stared into his green eyes and found her lips moving without her control. That was something she was used to.

"Of course, Percy."

He smiled, faintly. He was so young. As her blonde curls blew in the wind, she realized that she was so young, too.

Suddenly he looked up.

"Hey, Wise Girl, it's going to rain."

Suddenly she tensed. Wise girl? Why did that sound familiar?

"Hey, Annabeth, come on."

She just stood there, motionless.

"Annabeth?"

She just faintly smiled as she felt a raindrop fall on her face.

Rain.

It fell along with her tears.

"Annabeth? What's wrong?"

Concern flooded his voice.

"Sweetheart, why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?" he asked worriedly with sweetness in his voice.

She'd never felt so happy and sad in her life. She'd never felt the caress of love. Only the whip on her back.

Rain fell.

Thunder suddenly boomed and a torrent of rain fell down upon them, soaking them completely wet.

She felt that through the chaos, through the storm, no matter what happened, he would always be there. She was Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, and though she shouldn't have, she loved Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon.

By now Percy looked so worried she thought he would die.

"P...Percy," she whispered, this time with her own voice.

"What is it?" he asked quickly.

"Help me."

He looked confused.

"What?"

"Please," she cried all of a sudden.

"Please help me! Please don't abandon me! Don't ever go, please, help me!" she sobbed, digging into his coat with her fingers. She shivered as lighting flashed over head, and she clung for dear life to Percy Jackson.

He seemed overwhelmed, but nevertheless, he held her tight.

"Annabeth... I'm not going to leave you... Why are you so worried? I would never..." he trailed off. He would be left to interpret those words for the rest of his life.

He kissed her softly on the forehead and she seemed to calm down.

"C'mon, we need to get you out of the Rain. Besides, we'll miss the train back to London."

They hurried along to an underground subway, and he led her quickly down the steps.

She cuddled closely against him.

"Annabeth...what's the matter?" he asked softly.

"You know I'd never...leave...you...right? You know that I wouldn't. I...Why are you so scared?" he asked.

She didn't answer.

His mouth was still open, hesitating, as if he was trying to say something.

"I...I wouldn't, I mean...I...I lo-" Suddenly she felt a gust of wind, coming from the train that was speeding towards their station, and his words were lost to the wind. She gasped as she felt something come off her head. It was a Yankee's cap; it flew to the other side of the rails and she yelped in terror.

Time seemed to slow down for a second.

His hair blew in the gust and their eyes locked for one last second. She saw his lips move without sound.

Then it was over.

Again, against her will, she was forced to run, to chase the cap, to break away from her beloved Percy. She quickly rushed, hopping the gap between the two lines, and jumped to the other side just as the train rushed by. She reached for the cap, but missed as it blew further in a gust of wind.

When she looked up, she saw a familiar face; Ivan.

She screamed with all her might as he grabbed her, but realized with horror that the train was blocking her from Percy. Men surrounded her as she wailed for help, but it was too late. She managed to see a look of horror on Percy's face through the train windows. Faintly, as she was being dragged out of the room and onto a different subway, she heard Percy calling her name. Then it all went black.

Anna Price gasped as she jumped right back up.

He dream...suddenly she remembered everything.

Her name was Annabeth. His name was Percy. He was the Inspector! The same one that had come looking for her.

Suddenly, she realized that he hadn't forgotten. He'd remembered her plea. All these years, he'd been trying to help her.

She looked up and was faced with a toga clad figure, tall, and glowing with light, standing in the middle of her apartment.

An owl perched on her left shoulder and Annabeth smiled.

"Mother?"


End file.
